


Kitty Approved

by MagdaTheMagpie



Series: Marvel & Magic [41]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/F, Voyeurism, matchmaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22543720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagdaTheMagpie/pseuds/MagdaTheMagpie
Summary: Crookshanks playing matchmaker.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Darcy Lewis
Series: Marvel & Magic [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1109643
Comments: 3
Kudos: 117
Collections: Marvelously Magical Bingo 2019





	Kitty Approved

**Author's Note:**

> Written from the Marvelously Magical Bingo. Square "voyeurism" which was tougher to write than I expected.

No matter where she was, who she was working with or what her job description actually was, Darcy always ended up being the errand girl.

_ Get me coffee! _

_ Carry this whatchamacallit to the doodahling! _

_ Print this! _

_ Count that!  _

_ Call what's his name! _

If this were the dark ages, her post description would read servant. Not to mention her wage was a pittance given all the running around she did. She'd had to switch to sport bras just to keep the girls in check.

"Lewis!"

"Here we go again," she muttered, then put on her bright smile as she turned around. "Yes?"

The British agent they were currently working with as a liaison to MI6 leered down at her, but Darcy stood her ground, jutting her chin out in challenge. She was not going to cower in front of this prick. He hadn't managed to intimidate Jane because she was oblivious to such tactics, so he was going after her. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't easy prey herself. She was a fighter and as stubborn as a rock.

"One of our agents on mission is late returning, so you're going to feed her cat. Here's the address. The key is under the mat. I trust you can do this simple task without mucking it up?"

Darcy snatched the scrap of paper out of his hand, making sure his sweaty hand didn't come in contact with her. She glanced at the address and nodded. She'd bet it was his job and he was too lazy to do it himself. Lucky for him, she loved cats to bits. She loved cats more than most humans to be honest.

It was only once she was at the agent's door and picking up the spare key from under the welcome mat that she wondered what kind of secret agent hid their key in such an obvious place.  _ Anyone _ could walk in. She was either very careless or very sure of herself.

Or her "cat" was actually a lion, which would be really neat, except for its diet. Darcy had no plans to become lion bait. Turning the key, she cautiously pushed the door open and peered in. No lion. No cat either.

"Hello?"

She held her breath, waiting for a reply, but the agent really was absent, but so was her cat.

"Here kitty, kitty."

Damnit, she didn't actually know its name, so she cooed nonsense to draw it out, going from room to room as she looked under the furniture. The place was real nice and cosy. The paintings hanging on the walls were a bit strange though, and she was trying to figure out why they gave her that vibe when a heavy weight landed on her back, making her fall on all fours. Her landing was softened by the plush carpet however, and she stared at the orange, fluffy furball blinking up at her.

"Ooooh," she marvelled. "Aren't you the cutest guard cat ever! You must be so hungry from doing such a good job."

The cat flicked its bushy tail as if to tell her to get on with it sooner rather than later, drawing a chuckle out of her.

"You're going to boss me around too, aren't you, sweety?"

The cat meowed loudly, then butted its flat face against her shins to push her towards the kitchen.

"You're lucky I'm a sucker for a pretty face, or I wouldn't be so easy on you."

Darcy went to feed the cat twice a day and had done so for several days already. She had found out his name was Crookshanks, which was adorable, and that his mistress was called Hermione. At least they had in common that they were named after literary characters, although very different ones. The mysterious agent also loved to read, but did not watch TV since there wasn't one around. She had the weirdest, most disgusting looking ingredients in her kitchen, but also had the classic microwavable meals for the too-busy-to-cook. Darcy learned many little things about the owner, except what she looked like. She wasn't prying, per say, she was just curious. Besides, Crooks let her, so it was as good as being given permission to snoop around a bit.

However, on day six of feeding her fluffy little darling his dinner, a noise startled her while she was observing the strange paintings. She froze, straining her ears, getting spooked when it was clear someone was in the bathroom, because, to get to the bathroom, they would have had to walk pass her. 

Unless… could someone get in through the small window in there? A tiny burglar? Fishing her faithful taser out of her pocket, Darcy took a deep breath, then sneaked towards the door. It was ajar and the light was on when she was sure she had turned it off earlier.

Closer, closer. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she held her breath to peer in. There _ was _ someone. She could only see his back, covered by a heavy black cloak, until it was dropped unceremoniously to the floor, revealing a woman. When her hair tumbled down her back, Darcy knew exactly who it was. She was no Sherlock Holmes, but she had found more than a few long, dark, curly hair on the furniture and carpets.

She should make her presence known now, but her mouth went dry when the old timey dress she was wearing joined the cloak on the floor, leaving her dry-mouthed to stare at the naked back of the agent.

Darcy should  _ really _ step back, leave, flee. This was a special secret agent. She might  _ kill _ her for peeping on her. Darcy hadn't meant to. Why the hell wouldn't her limbs obey her and walk her the guck away? Next thing she knew, the agent's thumbs hooked her panties elastic and she pulled them down.

Darcy licked her lips, transfixed. The woman was beautiful, not flawless, but perfectly imperfect. From the back, in any case. She couldn't wait to see Hermione face to face and actually meet her. That thought was the catalyst she needed to look away, to do the decent thing and give the agent her privacy to shower in peace without someone peeping on her.

Darcy should make amends however. Go buy flowers or some shit. But, in her infinite luck, when she finally managed to walk away from the door, she tripped and fell flat on her back. The meow that accompanied the loud thump of her fall was a solid clue as to why exactly she had tripped.

"Traitor," she hissed a Crookshanks, who 

proceeded to lick his butthole, all innocent like.

"Welll, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."

Darcy squeaked in surprise and looked up at the sound of the sharp, dangerous voice, going cross-eyed at whatever was pointed at her nose. Her gaze then went from the weapon to the woman behind, gloriously naked.

Darcy squeaked again and hid her face behind her hands, feeling her whole head burn up like a chili pepper.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Hermione asked.

"Cat," Darcy blurted out.

"What?"

Darcy risked an eye open, but the other woman was still naked, not caring one whit Darcy could see everything apparently.

"I'm Agent Lewis. Agent Clark sent me here to feed your cat during your absence."

Hermione rolled her eyes and finally lowered her weapon, which was just a stick in the end, then she reached for a tartan bathrobe to throw over herself.

"Figures. What a lazy arse," she muttered, then offered her hand. "I'm Agent Granger, but please call me Hermione."

Darcy had already be doing that for some days now as she spoke with her pet, but she nodded anyway.

"Darcy."

She shook the proffered hand, forgetting to let go of it as she drank in the sight of the other woman. Cute, in an understated way, but anyone who didn't see the sharp intelligence glinting behind those deceptively innocent doe eyes of hers deserved to die at her hands.

"Crookshanks likes you," she noted with some surprise. "Not a single scratch."

Darcy noticed Hermione was inspecting her hand more than shaking it. She tugged it free in embarrassment.

"He's been very sweet."

"He's gotten fat," Hermione countered staring her in the eye with an unimpressed expression. 

Darcy couldn't say who began laughing first, but it was the worst case if giggles she'd ever had. Once it passed, they sat down for a cup of tea and biscuits, Darcy sharing Crookshanks' antics over the few days she had cared for him and learning why exactly Agent Clark had been covered in bandages of late.

"Crooks is a very good judge of character," Hermione concluded proudly as she scratched behind his floppy ear.

"I can only agree with that. I'm amazing," Darcy agreed with a smug smile.

The fact Hermione burst out laughing at her statement instead of rolling her eyes the way Jane or just about anyone else did only endeared the agent more to her, so she gathered her courage and took a deep breath.

"I know you're back and probably don't need me anymore, but could I, uh, visit again. Crookshanks, I mean. Soon?"

Hermione smiled knowingly.

"Anytime. You know where the key is, but I have the week off, and I wouldn't mind if you came to visit me too."

_ Score!  _

Darcy was so going to treat both Crookshanks and his mistress to dinner on her next visit.


End file.
